


Against the Rules

by BlueMasquerade



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Office, Dean/Cas Pinefest 2019, M/M, background Sam/Eileen (offscreen), non-explicit sexual harassment
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-08
Updated: 2019-03-08
Packaged: 2019-11-13 16:53:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 20,351
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18035492
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlueMasquerade/pseuds/BlueMasquerade
Summary: Dean Winchester was excited to start his new job at Sandover. He was ready for a change, and this was a big step up the career ladder. Maybe the Employee Handbook was a bit harsh in some respects, but hey, he was there to make money, not to find a life partner, so the prohibition against intra-company dating shouldn’t be a problem, right?No problem at all.Well, maybe one little problem, in the form of the Director of Human Resources, hot-as-sin Castiel Novak.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to my entry to the 2019 Dean/Cas Pinefest! 
> 
> I love this challenge, and all of the wonderful fics and art that are included. 
> 
> I was lucky to be paired with jScribbles as my artist for this challenge. Her art is awesome, and I couldn't be happier! Please check it out at the link in chapter one.

[Link to art](http://jscribbles-fanfic.tumblr.com/post/183303422064)

 

“Hi. I’m Dean Winchester. Nice to meet you…” Dean looked for and found the nameplate on the side of the reception desk. “Mildred. That’s a lovely scarf. The shade really brings out your eyes.”

Mildred chuckled. “Oh, you’re a rascal, aren’t you. Don’t tell me. Sales.” Mildred’s eyes sparkled with amusement. He got the feeling she thoroughly enjoyed a nice little game of flirting. She was clearly an older lady, late 50s or early 60s, and warm. Good choice for a receptionist position, he thought. Good first impression for the company.

 “I’m wounded. But yes. Sales.”

“I knew it.” She picked up a binder printed with the name and logo of Sandover Industries in their distinctive burgundy and dark silver. There was a nametag with his name on it clipped to the front. She handed the binder across to him, then stood up. “Come with me; I’ll show you to the conference room where orientation will be held. You’re the last to arrive, so you should be getting started soon.”

That was a bit alarming. “The last? I’m not late, am I?”

“No, not at all. The others are just a little early.”

He followed Mildred around the corner to a room with a glass wall, with a large oblong table, and one wall covered with a whiteboard. There was a small projector on one end of the table, and the opposite wall was formed of windows with a view over the nearby river.

There were three people already in the room. “Hi,” one of them said brightly – a young woman with red hair and a friendly smile. “I’m Charlie, nice to meet you!”

“Hi, Charlie. I’m Dean, nice to meet you too.” He chose a chair beside her, on the window side of the table. He never liked having his back to the door if he could help it.

Before the other two could introduce themselves, another person entered.

Holy. Shit. Dean unconsciously straightened his posture.

The guy was maybe an inch or two shorter than Dean, about his age. His hair was such a dark brown as to nearly be black, styled in artful disarray. Either that or it had been styled more conservatively and he ran his hand through it so much that now it looked perfectly, deliciously mussed. He wore a navy suit with a blue striped tie and white shirt. It didn’t fit particularly well but still managed to look good. His shoulders filled out the jacket nicely, and though the trousers were slightly baggy, it still looked like he had great legs. He kind of wanted the guy to turn around so he could check out that ass.

Damn. It had been a while since Dean had noticed a guy like this.

“And this is Castiel,” Mildred said. “He’ll be doing orientation with you. Have a good time, and I’m sure I’ll see you soon. I’ll usually be either the first face you see when you get here in the morning, or the last on your way out, depending on your hours.” She waved and left the room.

 “Hello,” he guy said. His voice was low and gravelly, the sort of voice that sent delicious tingles running down Dean’s spine. “I’m Castiel Novak, with Human Resources. I’ll be getting your paperwork squared away and running you through orientation.” He set his own copy of the Sandover binder down. It was quite a bit thicker than the one Dean had been given “Orientation is scheduled for your first two hours here, and then your managers will meet you to continue your introduction with job-specific matters.

“Before we get started, I’d like everyone to briefly introduce themselves and state what area you’ll be working in, and perhaps some little bit of information of general interest. For my own bit of personal trivia, I’ll address the question most people have upon meeting me. Yes, Castiel is an unusual name. I often go by Cas, but either will do. The name is derived from an old book about angels that my mother was reading when my twin brother and I were born. My parents weren’t expecting twins, so they had to come up with a second name quickly. My brother, being the elder by ten minutes, got ‘James’, and I got ‘Castiel’.” He shrugged one shoulder, as if to say ‘what can you do?’

“It’s interesting,” Charlie said. “I like it.”

“Thank you. Would you like to go next?”

“Sure. I’m Charlie Bradbury, and I’m in IT. Information Technology,” she clarified when she got a blank look from one of their other trainees. “I’m a programmer, though I can also deal with hardware problems fairly well. Personal trivia… hm. I love fantasy and RPGs. Role playing games. Online and live action, board games and computer games, you name it. I’m a geek girl and proud of it.”

Dean grinned at her. She sounded like an incredibly interesting person. He hoped they’d be friends. He was new in town; he needed to build a social circle here.

“That’s very interesting. Do you have a favorite game?” Cas asked.

“Moondoor. That’s the live action game. It’s awesome. I get to dress up in costume and fight with swords and everything.”

One of the other trainees, the woman, looked around with an expression of vague distaste.

“That’s awesome,” Dean said. “Maybe you can tell me more about it at lunch or something.”

“Sure, that sounds great!” She reached out to fist bump him.

Dean grinned as he thumped his fist against hers. “Okay, I’ll go next,” he volunteered. “I’m Dean Winchester, and I’m starting in Sales and Marketing as a regional director. I just moved here from Kansas City for this opportunity, so I’m new in town and just learning my way around. I drive a ’67 Chevy Impala, and I’ve done a lot of restoration work on her.”

Cas looked at him then, and wow. How had Dean missed just how blue his eyes were before? His throat went a little dry. “So you’re a car enthusiast?” Cas asked. His gaze briefly dropped down away from his eyes, but quickly flicked back up. Was that a faint cast of pink spreading across his cheeks?

Interesting. And intriguing.

“Mostly just my own. I mean, I can appreciate a beautiful set of wheels, and I have _opinions_ about some of the current models, but I don’t go around drooling at car shows or anything like that.”

“You’d probably roll your eyes at my little yellow Bug, then,” Charlie said.

“Ordinarily, yeah, but… I can see you with a Bug,” he admitted.

The other two introduced themselves as Abby Darden and Russ Bancroft, from Engineering and Receivables respectively. Abby was very active in her church group, and Russ was a sports fan and played football in high school. The guy was probably in his forties; Dean found it sad that he was still living his high school glory years.

“Excellent. Now that we’ve all been introduced, let’s get started with orientation. I’ll be walking you through the additional forms we need you to fill out now that you’ve been formally hired, and the Employee Handbook. The forms are in the front pocket of your binders. The Handbook is also available as a .pdf document on the company Intranet, but I find it is easier to review with a printed copy. Feel free to take notes, and ask questions at any time. These sessions are much more interesting as an interactive discussion than as a lecture.”

Dean flipped open the binder, reviewing the table of contents. Holy hell, did he really have to know all this crap? Vacation accruals, holidays and paydays, sure, that was important stuff. But dress code? Policies on maintaining your workspace? Ten pages of org charts? Travel and expense policies, working hours, password criteria, unexcused absences… it was suffocating.

He exchanged a glance with Charlie, who smiled slightly and quirked her head to one side.

Cas went through everything with a PowerPoint presentation projected onto the whiteboard. Dean did his damnedest not to let his eyes glaze over as Cas went through his bullet points.

“Next we have the anti-fraternization policy,” he said, clicking through to the next slide.

“The what now?”

Cas turned towards him with a flat look.

“The anti-fraternization policy,” he repeated. “As with the other policies, you are expected to read the details in the Handbook before the week is out. The highlights, however, are that dating co-workers is frowned upon in this establishment. Such relationships are highly discouraged, but permitted under certain limited circumstances. The two parties involved must not be in the same management chain. They cannot be managers of others. And finally, there cannot be more than one degree of separation between their grade in the organization, regardless of whether they work in the same department or not.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Dean said, incredulous. “So if you happen to meet someone you really hit it off with at work, you’re not allowed to date?”

“That is correct. Unless you fall within the accepted parameters.”

“What business is it of Sandover what people do when they’re not at work? How is this even legal?”

Cas looked at him with a narrowed gaze. “Do you already have such a relationship with someone at Sandover, Mr. Winchester? If so, you should have disclosed it in your application forms.”

Dean could practically feel the chill winds of winter emanating from his eyes, the blue shifted from summer sky to icy cold. He refused to cower, though, even though Cas was suddenly downright intimidating with nothing more than the quality of his gaze and the way his voice dropped another half octave in challenge.

He refused to acknowledge what the way he said ‘Mr. Winchester’ did to him.

“No, I don’t even know anyone here except the people I interviewed with and now you guys.”

“Then it shouldn’t be an issue for you.”

“What are the penalties for violating the policy?” Abby asked, her pen poised and ready to take notes. Brown-noser. Dean looked for and located a wedding ring on her left hand. He considered asking a snarky comment about why she needed to take notes.

“Violation of the anti-fraternization policy carries with it punishments ranging from an official letter of warning in your file, which will follow you for your entire career, up to and including termination.”

“So one date and you could get fired for it?”

“You could, yes.”

“Would you, though? Really?” Charlie asked. “If it was just one date?”

“If it was a violation of the policy, then once the incident came to our attention we would pursue an investigation, and determine the nature of the penalty based on the individual case.”

Dean understood that relationships could fall under sexual harassment situations when there was a power imbalance between people. But just working in the same department didn’t seem to him that it would necessarily create a power imbalance, and if the two worked in entirely different departments with no reporting relationship, why the hell did it even matter? What business was it of Big Brother?

The draconian policy bothered him, but… well, he hadn’t accepted the position at Sandover for its matchmaking possibilities. Just because he objected to the policy in principle didn’t mean that he saw it ever applying to him personally.

He shrugged, exhaled a deep breath, and let it go.

“Fine. See a hot prospect, make sure they don’t work for Sandover before making a move. Got it.”

Cas regarded him for an extra moment with a narrowed gaze. Dean wondered if he’d noticed the use of ‘they’ as a pronoun. It was subtle, and he knew it could just be considered generic. There wasn’t any particular reason that Cas would pick up on that as a declaration of non-heterosexuality.

Cas apparently decided to accept his dropping the subject, and moved on to the next topic. Expense reimbursement. Exciting stuff – though being in sales, it was probably going to be something he needed to understand. He’d be entertaining clients and prospective clients, after all, and he sure as hell didn’t want to get stuck paying for things out of pocket because he’d screwed up on understanding the rules. He’d made that mistake once in his first sales job out of college. Never again.

Training finished up by mid-morning.

“Make sure to fill out those forms by the end of the week, and bring them to me in Human Resources,” Cas said, wrapping up. “My office is on the sixth floor. You can also send them interoffice mail if you prefer. Your department admin will fill you in on the requirements for your business line.”

“Got it,” Charlie said. “Thanks, Cas. Very informative session.”

“You’re welcome, Charlie. And thank you, all of you, for your attention. Welcome to Sandover. I hope you all have long and fulfilling careers with us.”

He shook hands with everyone before leaving. Dean was almost certain he was imagining that _his_ handshake lasted a second longer than anyone else’s.

Almost.


	2. Chapter 2

Their colleagues were waiting in the reception area to meet them and escort them to their offices. Dean spotted Zachariah Adler right away. The guy was impossible to miss. He wore a dark gray suit with the jacket buttoned up, a comb-over, and a wide silvery tie.

They’d actually met at a convention in Omaha, of all places. Dean hated conventions – at least the boring kinds related to business and industry, rather than fun stuff like gaming and comics and movies – but sometimes he drew the short straw at his old job and got stuck manning the booth. Sandover’s booth had been right next to his, and Dean had ended up chatting with Adler during slow times on the floor.

He’d been shocked when Adler offered him a job at the end of the convention. It meant moving across three state lines, but both the pay and the title were huge steps up, so after talking to his brother Sam and Uncle Bobby about it, he agreed, despite some minor reservations about just how well Adler lived up to the oily sales rep stereotype.

“Zach. Good to see you again.” Dean smiled and shook hands with Adler.

“Glad to see you made it to town,” Zach said, smiling as well. “How was orientation?”

Dean glanced to the side just in time to catch sight of Cas disappearing into the elevator. Yep. The rear view was definitely worth checking out. “Good, it was good. Went through policies, org charts, a map of the building.”

“Excellent. Come with me and I’ll show you to your office and introduce you to your staff and colleagues. We’re up on Ten, just one floor down from the C-suite.” He preened at that.

“Awesome.”

The elevator doors opened onto the sales floor. Dean looked around, curious. He was going to be spending a lot of time here, after all. “This is the floor,” Zach said. “Elevator bank in the middle, rest rooms too. There’s a small kitchenette down that way, with a coffee machine and vending machine. The main break room is on the third floor. My office is the one in the corner there.” He pointed. “You’re over this way.” There were offices and conference rooms all along the windows. Dean’s, it turned out, was right next to the small conference room in another corner. They must be on the same side of the building as the room they’d met in this morning, because there was the same river view.

He smiled, pleased by that. If he was stuck inside all day it was nice to at least be able to see running water.

Adler opened the door, pausing to highlight the nameplate mounted outside the door. ‘Dean Winchester, Director of Sales, Midwest Region’. Dean let himself take a moment to appreciate it. It looked and sounded so much better than ‘Dean Winchester, Sales Associate’.

“Why don’t you set your things down, and I’ll bring you around to introduce everyone on your team.”

“Sounds good.” Dean didn’t have many things yet. He didn’t figure he really needed to bring anything that first day other than the smartphone tucked into his inside jacket pocket, though now he had the official HR binder. He stepped inside, put the binder on the bookshelf under the window. The desk itself was minimalist, no built-in file cabinet and just a small pencil drawer. He liked it.

Adler led him around next. His own team was small – two senior sales associates, three junior, and an administrative assistant. But then there were a lot of other people to meet, too. There were colleagues at his same level in the organization, Directors of different regions. More sales associates, more admins. Then the President, Gordon Walker himself, and the rest of the executives.

It was late afternoon before he had a moment to himself in his new office, newly instructed on how to log into his new company-issued laptop and how to use the office phone and headset. He was both exhilarated and exhausted.

There was so much to do. So much. He had to study up on Sandover and the products they sold. He wanted to actually see them, see how they were produced, learn how they were used. He needed to meet clients. He needed to make connections with the people who reported to him. He needed to learn how the financials worked, how the commission system worked, who did what and how to get and stay on their good sides.

Yep. Exhilarating, and exhausting.

On top of that, he still needed to find somewhere to live. He was in a long-term stay hotel right now, and no lies, that place was a little scary. Still, it was so much better than a lot of the places they’d stayed when he and Sammy were kids, when Dad had gone off the rails, in those dark years between Mom’s death and when they finally ended up with Bobby.

He was reading through the last year’s worth of commission reports when someone knocked on his door frame. He looked up, startled to see that it had gotten dark outside without his noticing.

Castiel Novak stood outside his office. “Dean. I’m glad you’re still here. Do you have a moment?”

“Sure, yeah. Come on in. Have a seat.”

Cas stepped inside and settled on the guest chair, keeping to the edge rather than fully relaxing. “I was going through your paperwork and saw that you’ve listed the local Stay-Inn as your address. Do you have more permanent housing arranged?”

“Not yet, no. Not going to lie, this all happened fast. I figured I’d look around this weekend, try and find an apartment nearby.”

“If you have some idea what sort of atmosphere you’re looking for, I can provide some suggestions for where you may want to focus your search. We also have contacts with some local agents who can help you with a search. They can screen properties based on your requirements, so you don’t have to spend your time looking at places that aren’t going to meet your needs.”

Dean swallowed and played with a pen to give himself a moment. Damn, did this guy have any idea how hot he was? He hit all of Dean’s check boxes. Dark hair just long enough to bury his fingers in? Check. Intense blue eyes? Check. Killer thighs? Check. And that voice… shit.

Pull it together, Winchester.

“That sounds awesome. I was thinking it’d be good to be close to the office, as long as that doesn’t make the cost ridiculous. This job has a big commission component to the salary, which means there’s great upside but also it’s going to take some time to build up a client base. So I don’t want to go with anything too crazy until I’m more established.”

Castiel nodded. “I’ll email you the list of agents. I’d recommend Meg Masters, though you are of course free to choose anyone or none of them. Meg can be irreverent and sarcastic, but she’s very good at her job.”

“Thanks. I kind of like irreverent and sarcastic.” He grinned.

Castiel nodded again. “I thought you might.” He met Dean’s gaze for a long moment, almost challenging, before the corner of his mouth quirked in an almost-smile. “Is there anything else I can offer assistance with?”

_An introduction to the local bar scene? Company for dinner? A back massage? Other… issues? How to get around the rules you were so passionate about at orientation this morning?_ “Not right now, thanks. I’m just trying to get a handle on how things work around here. I know I’m not going to get it all figured out tonight, but I’m getting a start at it.”

“Very well, I’ll leave you to it. Good luck, and I’ll get that information to you as soon as I get back to my desk.”

“Thanks, Cas.”

 

One of the highlights of Sandover was Charlie Bradbury. She stopped by his office on the second day, inviting him to go exploring with her to find the good local lunch spots. When he wasn’t lunching with his staff or colleagues he needed to build relationships with, he continued the Great Sandover Luncheon Tour with her.

Sometimes he thought about asking Cas to join them. Didn’t seem like he really socialized with anyone at work, though sometimes… sometimes Dean thought he spied a wistful look in the guy’s expression when he stopped in the breakroom to top off his coffee at the same time Dean was there, sitting at a table with Charlie and shooting the breeze. Maybe he was just imagining it, though. He probably was.

Castiel Novak probably had a full social life outside of work, even if during working hours he kept himself intentionally aloof. He probably felt that being in HR, he had to maintain a certain professional distance.

The second time Dean met up for drinks and trivia night with Charlie after work, Dean tapped her on the arm. “Hey, Red. We aren’t violating any anti-fraternization rules, are we?”

She rolled her eyes. “Hell no, Dean-o. You’re cute and all, but you’re totally not my type. You’ve got all the wrong equipment.” When his look revealed more confusion than understanding, she clarified. “I’m a lesbian. So unless you’re secretly a woman, you aren’t ever going to do it for me. Maybe not even then, because it takes more than just gender to create attraction, y’know?”

“Ah. Okay, so we’re safe on the anti-fraternization front.”

“We are indeed.” She lifted her glass to clink against his beer bottle. “You seem to be hung up on the anti-fraternization policy. Any particular reason?”

“Huh? No, of course not. Other than that it seems a little over the top.” He shrugged. “Never worked anywhere before that forbid people from making personal connections.”

“How many places have you worked?”

“Lots, though honestly, most of them were the typical high school and college sorts of jobs. I helped out in my uncle’s mechanic shop. Did some time as a server. Mowed lawns and shoveled driveways before I was old enough for anything else. A little bit of retail, though I hated that and got out of it as soon as I could find something, anything, else. Started in sales my senior year of college, and haven’t looked back.”

“Huh. So. What about you?”

“What about me what?”

“Straight up straight? Or leanings in other directions?”

He flushed. Okay, so maybe he’d started taking some swings for the other team in the not-so-distant past. Didn’t mean he was ready to declare himself anything in particular.

Still, Charlie had already announced her own preferences. If they were becoming friends, shouldn’t he be similarly open? It was scary, but new start and all that. Why hide himself?

He took another sip of his beer to give himself another moment to consider. “I’m still working on that one,” he admitted. “Which I guess means not completely straight. I like women. Most of my hook-ups are with women. But… not all.” He mumbled that last into his bottle.

Charlie grinned at him and gave him a fist-bump. “Awesome, dude. So bi? Mostly the ladies because it’s just easier?”

Her easy acceptance shouldn’t surprise him, and yet it still did. He felt his shoulders relax and his stomach settle back down. “Yeah, mostly. And because my dad… well, let’s just say that saying he wouldn’t have approved of any other options is a gross understatement.”

“Ah. Well. Dad’s not anywhere around here, is he?”

“Nope.” He hadn’t had nearly enough to drink to get into that one.

All in all, Charlie was the most awesome of friends.

“Your irritation at the policy doesn’t have anything to do with the person who told you about it, does it? Mr. Dreamy himself?”

Maybe she wasn’t so awesome after all. Dean narrowed his gaze at her. “No. Of course not.”

“Of course not.” Charlie smiled one of those obnoxious smiles.

Of course not.

Just because the guy was by far the hottest person he’d seen at Sandover in his month on the job… or, hell, in this town since he moved here. Just because Cas had runner’s thighs that were obvious even in the loose-fitting trousers he wore… and of course that voice and those eyes. None of that had any bearing on his antagonism towards the policy.

Not like he was actually planning to date anyone from work.

If he wanted to be dating, he had plenty of options. Lots of people to choose from. Lots of people in this very bar.

 

He didn’t date anyone from the bar. Somehow Dean didn’t end up dating anyone at all—or even hooking up. His new job took up a lot of his energy, and then there was looking for a place to live. Charlie spearheaded his social life, with the occasional board game nights and trivia nights at the local dive bar. Even though she was new to Sandover, she was from the area, so she knew her way around. He met her friends, enjoyed them, though he didn’t click with any of the others as well as he did with Charlie herself, and didn’t end up hanging out with them independently.

About a month into his job, Dean flopped back on the bed in the Stay-Inn, phone in hand, and rang up Sam.

“Hey, Dean,” Sam said, his voice warm and welcoming. Dean had to swallow back a sudden ache. Damn, he missed the kid. He liked it here. He liked the job, he was starting to get some business with the clients he’d inherited, and had made a couple promising new contacts too. Charlie was amazing; he felt that she was going to be a forever friend, no matter what happened with Sandover. But still. Here he was, stuck in a motel that was slowly driving him mad.

He missed Sam. “Hey, Sammy.”

“It’s Sam,” he said reflexively. Dean wondered if he even thought about it anymore, or if it was one of those classic call and response things. ‘Bitch’. ‘Jerk’. ‘Hey Sammy’. ‘It’s Sam.’

“Always gonna be Sammy to me. How’s school? Can’t believe you’re still going.” He could, actually. Law school took a while, especially when he took an extra year in under-grad because even with the scholarship, he still needed to work to cover the expenses at Stanford. Dean helped as much as he could, but things happened.

“Almost done. Just a semester and a half left, and then I’ll be done.”

“And then what?”

“And then a grunt job at some law firm, somewhere in the country, while I study for the state bar. You like it there, Dean? Sandover’s treating you right? Should I be looking at firms in your city?”

Dean swallowed again. “You don’t want to get a job out on the west coast? High powered firm in the big city? San Francisco, Los Angeles?”

Sam made a noncommittal sound. “Probably not. People need help everywhere. You know I’m not going into law for a high profile career. I want to be able to help people who get into situations they don’t know how to get out of, and need legal help. That’s not limited to the coasts. And… I don’t want to live halfway across the country from the only family I have. I want to be close to you and Bobby. You still like it at Sandover?”

“Yeah, man, it’s good. Meeting with clients and figuring out how to help them is more fun than I expected. It’s cool to eat at different places in town, check out the hot local bar, all on the company dime.” He left out the part about his boss being an ass, mostly because he didn’t want Sam to have anything to worry about.

“So if you think you’re going to be sticking around for a while, maybe I’ll look there. I don’t want to live with you again, but it wouldn’t be so bad to be close enough to have a beer together every week, and go to the occasional wrestling match together, you know?”

Dean smiled. “Yeah. That wouldn’t be so bad.”

“How’s the apartment hunting going?”

“Slow. I haven’t had as much time to look as I’d like, and the places I’ve checked out were all not quite it. I’m not planning on this being my forever home, but even if I only stay a year or two there are certain things I want. Needs to be a garage available for Baby. That seems to be the biggest sticking point in the neighborhood I like. I might have to go somewhere else in order to get it.”

“What’s in the neighborhood you like?”

“Good places to eat, some nice local bars. Not too far from Charlie’s place. You’ll like her. She’s awesome.”

“So you’ve said. I’m looking forward to meeting her.”

“As you should be. What classes are you taking now, again? Get that paper done you were complaining about last time?” Dean listened to Sam talking about his classes, letting the sound of his brother’s familiar voice help him to relax.


	3. Chapter 3

“Hey, Cas.” Dean walked up to the counter in the Sandover kitchenette, where Cas was filling his black and yellow striped coffee mug. Dean sternly told his hands to stop sweating. There was no need to be nervous. No need to feel that giddy terror of a middle school kid forced into talking into a crush.

For one thing, he was way past middle school.

For another, he was _not_ crushing on the HR Director.

That would be the height of stupidity. Cas might not be wearing a wedding ring (he’d checked, okay? There were no rules against checking), but he was still Completely Unavailable, no matter what his sexual orientation might be. Not with how sternly he’d insisted that dating policy was Good and Right and the Foundation of Society and All That Is Good.

So. No crush. Nothing to see here. Moving along.

Cas poured some of the awful creamer into his mug, followed by a packet of sugar, stirring it as he turned towards Dean. “Hello, Dean.” He quirked an eyebrow, inviting Dean to continue.

Dean cleared his throat. “So, uh. Just wanted to thank you for hooking me up with Meg Masters.” Hooking him up with? Holy hell, that was a terrible word choice. Please overlook it. Please. Please.

Cas’ small smile turned up the corner of his mouth. “Oh, have you successfully located a place to move to, then?”

“Yeah, found an apartment about two miles from here. It’s a little farther than ideal, but I could still walk it if I wanted to, if I drag myself out of bed early enough. It’s not big, not new, so the rent’s pretty good for being so close to downtown. Best thing? There’s garage space I can lease, too, so I don’t have to leave Baby – my car – stuck outside, exposed to the elements all the time.”

“That’s right, you mentioned at your orientation session that you are a classic car aficionado.”

Dean grinned, pleased and impressed that Cas had remembered that. “Yeah. Someday I’d like to get into restoring classics as a hobby. When I have more room. Nice big garage, space to pull a car apart. For a while I thought I might go into that as a field, or maybe mechanical engineering, but…” He shrugged. A good mechanical engineering school was more expense than an average business school, and with Sam at Stanford they couldn’t afford two good schools. Sales was something he could rely more on his personality than on his degree. He knew how to turn on the charm without being oily and gross about it, and that went a long way in sales.

“So anyhow,” he continued, “I’d like to treat you to lunch to thank you for the connection.” There. He’d done it. “Charlie Bradbury and I… you remember her? She was at my orientation too?”

Cas nodded. “Yes, I remember her.”

“Good. Anyhow, we’ve made it something of a mission to evaluate all the local lunch places. You could join us. If you want. You know. As thanks.”

Fuck. Wasn’t he just telling himself he knew how to turn on the charm?

Cas looked at him for a long moment, just short of a confounded stare. Seemed like he was trying to figure Dean out, as though he were some sort of strange specimen and Cas was a scientist. Dean resisted the urge to squirm, and bit his tongue to keep himself from retreating on the offer like a scared puppy. He inched his chin up higher and waited him out.

Finally Cas nodded, smiling faintly. “I would like that. Thank you. When were you thinking?”

“Anytime, really. Today? Unless you have other plans.”

“No. I rarely have lunch plans. I tend to eat in my office and catch up on some reading over my lunch break.”

“I hope it’s at least leisure reading and not HR journals.”

Was that a faint tinge of pink coloring the top of Cas’ cheeks? “It varies,” he said dismissively, glancing away and stirring the sugar in his coffee.

Hot damn. Dean suddenly very much wanted to know what it was that Cas tended to read over lunch.

“Awesome. Then meet us in the reception area at noon?”

Cas nodded. “Very well. I’ll be there. Thank you, Dean.”

 

Just that easily Cas joined the Quest for the Most Divine Lunch, as she’d started calling it. That first day Charlie gave Dean a look that surely must have inspired that saying about the cat that got the canary.

Dean ignored it.

It was fun, though. At first Cas kept his contributions to the conversation cautious and business related, but before long? He was sharing dry observations about incidents in the news, going on a mini-rant about the plight of bees in the world, sharing his outrage about modern politics, and contributing his own opinions about the relative merits of the day’s lunch choices. He was funny as hell, though it was a subtle humor. Sometimes it took Dean a couple beats before he got it.

Cas could look like he got the canary, too, when he got Dean and Charlie laughing over something he said.

Getting a smile out of Cas was more difficult, but damn if that didn’t just make it feel more like a prize. His lips didn’t do much more than twitch upwards at the corner, but his eyes crinkled and sparkled, and when he actually laughed? Dean’s mood was sky high for the rest of the day.

 

“Good morning, Dean.” Bela Talbot greeted Dean from his doorway before breezing in, her long honey-colored hair swaying with the motion. She smiled at him. “I brought you the proof copy of the new promotional materials. Sarah in Graphic Design wants you to go over them and provide any feedback. They need to go to press by the end of the week if they’re going to have the materials ready for the convention.”

“Oh, thanks, Bela.” Dean reached out to take the packet from her. A faint hint of some spicy perfume tickled his nose.

“My pleasure.” She lingered in front of his desk.

Dean raised a brow at that. Bela worked in Sales, though she wasn’t one of his direct reports. She was an assistant working for Cal Jenkins, the director for the North region. She had a reputation as being very ambitious, which Dean could admire. Nothing wrong with being ambitious. He was ambitious himself. Still, something about her made him uncomfortable. She played the game too hard, he thought. Worked the relationships inside the company, rather than making her mark with the clients and letting her work speak for itself.

“Can I help you with anything else?” he asked, when she didn’t turn to leave.

“I was just noticing the picture on your bookcase. That’s a beautiful car.” She moved to the side and picked it up, using the tip of one perfectly manicured nail to tap at the photo of himself, Sam, and Baby. Bobby had taken it, the summer before Sam left for Stanford. It was one of Dean’s favorite photos. The lighting had been perfect, showing off Baby to her best advantage, and he and Sam looked happy.

“Thanks. She’s a ’67 Chevy Impala. They don’t back them like they used to, that’s for sure.”

“Yours?”

“Yeah. She is.”

“Impressive. It must take a lot of work to keep a classic car like that running.”

“Less than you might think. They don’t have all the fancy electronics like modern cars do. It’s a challenge to find parts when something can’t be repaired, but most things can be repaired with a little elbow grease.”

She was good, he had to give her credit for that.

“I’d like to see her in person sometime. You drive here, don’t you?”

“Depends on the weather. Sometimes I walk. Yeah, sure, we can do that, sometime.” He hoped it was one of those ‘sometimes’ that never actually came.

Adler walked by then, stopped, and backtracked to Dean’s door. “Ah, Bela. There you are.”

She turned towards him, her posture changing slightly. Shoulders back, chin down, hip canted out to the side. It was the strangest thing, Dean thought.

“Good morning, Mr. Adler. Is that a new tie? It’s flattering.”

“Thank you, it is,” he said, his hand reflexively coming up to stroke the tie down the center of his chest. As far as Dean could tell it was an ordinary tie. Zach Adler wasn’t exactly on the cutting edge of fashion. He tended to wear black or dark gray suits with black or dark gray ties. This one was dark gray, but maybe there was some sort of a stripey pattern woven into it, that caught the light differently.

Maybe. Dean couldn’t see that well, and he wasn’t about to get up and go stare at the thing.

“You were looking for me?” Bela prompted him, her tone practically a purr.

“I was. I heard you had some ideas for the Fulbright account that you wanted to run past me? I have a few minutes now if you do.”

“Certainly.” She turned back towards Dean. “I’ll catch up with you later.”

He nodded. “Okay.” The two of them headed off, Adler briefly brushing his hand across her elbow as though to guide her.

There was something about it that seemed a little off to him. Creepy.

He shrugged it off and got back to work. He had the marketing brochure sample to go over, after all.


	4. Chapter 4

Dean was working on a sales report for Adler one day when a group chat window opened up on his computer from Charlie. He clicked ‘join’, and saw Cas joined as well.

_Okay, guys, we have to do something special for lunch today,_ Charlie typed. _It’s a special occasion, after all._

Dean frowned. Special occasion? _What special occasion?_

_Dude! I bet Cas knows. Right?_

A moment later Cas’ reply showed up. _Yes, but only because I’m responsible for updating your records._

_You guys going to let me in on the secret?_

_I can’t believe you don’t just know this off the top of your head! Today is the one-year anniversary of the three of us meeting._

_Also known as your one-year service anniversary. And your gaining an additional three days of vacation._

Dean sat back in his chair. Huh. Had he really been working at Sandover for a year already?

_Okay, I’m in. Meet at the usual place, usual time?_

_You got it!_

_Very well._

 

Dean was the last one to make it to the front door. Charlie looked pointedly at her wrist, though she wasn’t actually wearing a watch. Cas simply stood patiently, hands lightly clasped in front of himself. The way he stood made the shoulders of his suit jacket bunch up strangely. Dean firmly squashed the desire to fix it.

Cas was a handsome guy, but a good tailor would do wonders for him. His jackets weren’t properly fitted, and don’t get Dean started on the pants. He bought them too big around the waist, probably so that they’d fit around his thighs. Dean hadn’t noticed right away, but about a month ago there had been a casual day – one of those things where you bought stickers that allowed you to wear jeans, with the proceeds going towards charity – and Cas had actually worn jeans. Dean’s eyes had gone wide at the sight.

Cas owned jeans. Cas not only owned jeans, but they were jeans that fit him like a glove, hugging his ass and thighs in ways that should be against the law. Cas had thighs that were far more muscular than Dean had ever dreamed, though maybe he should have, since he’d mentioned he liked to run in the mornings before he came to work.

Ever since that day, Dean had definitely noticed that Cas’ normal business attire did not fit him nearly as well as those jeans.

“Sorry,” he apologized when he caught up to them. “Adler caught me on the way out, wanted me to drop off some numbers with Naomi. Then she wanted to talk for a few. But I’m here now. Where are we going?” He rubbed his hands together briskly. “Burgers?”

Charlie laughed. “Why, when we’re calling this a special occasion, does your mind go straight to burgers?”

“Because, burgers!”

Cas nodded. “There are few things that can top a good cheeseburger.” He glanced over to Dean, a smile lurking in his blue eyes. “We could go to Burger Heaven. And top off the meal with a slice of celebratory pie.”

Dean turned towards Charlie, making his expression as openly pleading as possible. “Red! Burgers. And _pie_.”

She rolled her eyes, looped an arm through each of their elbows. “Fine. Burger Heaven it is. But only because celebration or not, I can’t push _too_ much past my usual lunch time.”

“They love you in IT,” Dean protested. “You can program circles around most of the people in your department.”

Cas cleared his throat. “Topic change, please.”

“Yeah, yeah. Getting too close to things that HR can’t pretend he didn’t hear. Okay.”

Burger Heaven was a short walk from their office. It was busy, but then it was always busy. Dean figured that was usually a good sign. After all, you wouldn’t have long lines for places where the food was crap.

Charlie walked up to the host station. “Reservations for three, under Bradbury?”

Dean and Cas looked at her.

“What, you think I don’t know you guys well enough to know this is what you’d choose? Dorks.” She rolled her eyes affectionately.

After being seated and placing their orders, Charlie looked at both of them. “So… I considered that this might be a speech-worthy occasion, but then I decided eh, screw it. I’ll keep it down to I’m really glad I know the two of you. Who knew a corporate orientation session would lead to really great friendship?”

“Aww, you’re too sweet,” Dean said.

Cas shook his head, clearly expecting Dean’s tone and fondly amused by it. “I will say that I did not expect to end up like this, but I am grateful for the two of you pulling me into your small social circle. It’s good to have friends.”

“Cheers,” Dean agreed.

The burgers and pie were delicious, but the conversation was better. Charlie kept him laughing – but perhaps even more entertaining was watching Cas’ amusement. He rarely let loose with a full body laugh. A crinkle of his eyes was about all you’d get out of him when he found something amusing, accompanied by a hint of a smile. But damn, his eyes would go soft with pleasure and humor, and his posture relaxed, making it that much more obvious that while at Sandover he always carried himself with perfect posture.

Whenever he earned one of those rare smiles, Dean felt all warm inside.

 

As fall moved into winter, Charlie invited herself over to Dean’s apartment to watch Game of Thrones on DVD, preparing for the new season.

“What are you doing for New Year’s?” she asked, leaning back into the sofa and resting her stockinged feet on the edge of the coffee table.

“I don’t know. I’ll be back from Bobby’s place by then, but I don’t have specific plans yet.”

“Sam going to make it up for Christmas?”

“Yeah, he is. He’s bringing his girlfriend, Eileen. I haven’t met her yet, so I’m looking forward to it. Sounds like he’s crazy about her, which…”

“Which is weird to you, because in your head he’s still your gangly moose of a baby brother?”

“Yeah, that.” Dean aimed a crooked grin in her direction. “I’ve told you way too much about my life, haven’t I.”

“Nopes. Never.” She nudged him with her elbow. “I want to hear everything about you. I just wish Sam was coming out here, because I’d love to meet him in person. Instead of just hanging over your shoulder sometimes when you’re Skyping with him.”

“Uninvited.”

“Uninvited, perhaps, but not unwelcome.” She smiled brightly at him, and he couldn’t be annoyed with her. She was maybe the best thing about Sandover. Maybe. Definitely. He couldn’t count a certain blue-eyed HR director, because that? That was thoroughly against the rules.

“Whatever, Red.”

“So back to New Year’s. I have an annual tradition of watching all three Lord of the Rings movies on New Year’s Eve. Extended Edition, so usually has to continue on to New Year’s Day. Because those movies are awesome, but they’re also freaking _long_. You wanna come?”

“That sounds great. Sure. I’d love to. Who else is going to be there?”

“I invited my friend Kevin, from the comic shop, but he’s not sure he can make it. So just you and me so far. Thought I’d invite Cas. You think he’d come?”

Dean swallowed hard. “You’re inviting Cas?”

“Thinking about it.” She nudged him in the side with her elbow. “He’s a cool dude. And you have a huge crush on him.”

“Do not!” he protested instinctively, though he suspected it was useless if his face was turning as red as it felt like.

“Right. It’s okay, Dean. Nothing wrong with a crush.”

“I don’t have a crush on him. Mr. No-workplace-relationships? Remember that?”

“What does that have to do with the price of tea in China?”

“Aargh.” He buried his face in his arms. “Fine. Ask him. We don’t even know if he’s going to be in town.”

“Actually we do. I asked him what his holiday plans were. He said he’s spending Christmas with his family, but he’ll be back on the 28th.”

“Sounds like you already invited him.”

“No, I haven’t. Just scoped out whether or not he’s available. Timewise. Not in the romantic sense. Though he is. You know, just in case you were wondering.”

Dean rolled his eyes. “Like that’s subtle. Besides, I don’t even know if he likes those movies.”

“Hey, I have an idea!” she said with over-the-top enthusiasm. “Why don’t we ask him and find out? It’s this whole new thing, talking to people and finding out what they’re interested in!”

Dean threw a handful of popcorn at her.

 

The two of them were eating lunch in the Sandover breakroom the next day when Cas came in, black and yellow striped coffee mug in hand, making for the coffee machine. Dean swallowed. Every day it was getting more and more difficult to pretend he didn’t notice the guy. Not just notice, but _notice_.

Today he was wearing a navy suit with a white shirt and blue tie. It was the one where the jacket didn’t fit quite as well as it should. Dean knew all of his suits. He had five of them, one for every day of the week. Three of them were navy. The only one that fit really well was his charcoal gray suit, the one he usually wore on Wednesdays.

Dean loved Wednesdays.

At least he usually favored blue ties, which brought out his eyes.

Charlie nudged Dean’s knee with hers. “Now’s our chance,” she whispered to him.

“Now’s our chance for what?”

“New Year’s!” She lifted her hand to wave at Cas. “Hey, Cas.”

He turned and nodded greeting. Once he’d filled his mug and retrieved his lunch from the refrigerator, he came over to join them. “Hello, Dean. Charlie.”

“Heya, Cas,” Dean returned, shifting his lunch over a little to make more room.

Cas pulled his lunch out one item at a time, arranging them neatly in front of himself. Dean scanned it curiously. The dude usually ate healthy, except for when he indulged in the cheeseburgers with them. Today was no exception. The sandwich looked like some sort of whole grain bread with turkey and sprouts, plus a container of carrot sticks and celery, and an apple. The grand finale was a small container of home-made hummus.

Dean hadn’t had any idea what hummus was until the first time he’d seen Cas eating it, and asked what the hell that baby-food looking stuff was.

Cas offered him a taste. It wasn’t that bad, surprisingly, but damned if he’d admit it.

Charlie clapped her hands together and smiled brightly at the both of them. “So, Cas, Dean and I were talking. You have any plans for New Year’s Eve? Because we’re doing a Lord of the Rings marathon. Probably a Lord of the Rings New Year’s Eve and Day slumber party, because let’s be real, we won’t be done by midnight and we’ll have to finish up on New Year’s Day, after the Rose Parade.”

“Wait, what? Who said anything about the Rose Parade?” Dean protested.

Charlie fixed him with a flat look. “Dude. It’s _tradition_. You can’t have New Year’s Day without the Rose Parade. Those floats are _amazing_.”

“They really are,” Cas agreed, nodding. “I find it remarkable how they manage to find just the right plants to accomplish the effects they want. Putting rules and limits can really encourage some remarkable feats of creativity.”

So that was a battle Dean had no hope of winning. He sighed and shoved a potato chip into his mouth.

“So. You in?” Charlie looked hopefully at Cas.

He considered for a moment. “A slumber party? Seriously? Does this involve sleeping bags and staying up giggling all night long?”

“Don’t forget the nail polish. It could. Or just blankets on the sofa and recliner. I don’t have a guest room, but I wouldn’t want you to drive home in the middle of the marathon. Besides, it’s New Year’s. There will likely be libations involved.”

“Libations. Why don’t you just call it booze?” Dean asked.

“Because libations is a cool word, duh.”

The corner of Cas’ mouth quirked up, though he didn’t say anything.

“Fine. Libations. And yes, if I’m there on New Year’s Eve, there will be _libations_ involved.”

“How many guests are you expecting?” Cas asked.

“Well, so far just me and Dean, and hopefully you. The others I asked are thinking they won’t be able to make it, though Kevin isn’t yet an absolute no. Anyone else you’d want to invite? A date or anything?”

Dean kicked her under the table.

She didn’t even look at him, though she kicked back.

“If I had a date for New Year’s Eve, I wouldn’t be considering your invitation. A slumber party would not be where I hoped the evening would end.”

“No? A slumber party is _exactly_ where I’d hope a hot New Year’s Eve date would end.”

Cas fixed Dean with a flat look, then pointedly turned towards Charlie, dipping a carrot stick into the hummus.

Charlie grinned. “So you’re considering it.”

“Perhaps against my better judgment. But yes. I am considering it. May I have a little time?”

“Sure. You won’t get a better offer. And I don’t mean that in the sense that no one would want to go out with you on New Year’s, because you’re kind of dreamy. But in the sense that Lord of the Rings is awesome, and so are me and Dean.”

Cas laughed.


	5. Chapter 5

“You’re here!” Dean barely managed to lift his arms up and away from his body before Charlie wrapped him up in a big hug.

“Yeah, made it. Let me put these down so I can hug you back, ‘kay?”

“Nope. Not yet.” She snuggled deep, her arms inside his winter coat, before releasing him and taking one of the bags from him. “Okay. Now we’re done. Did you get everything on your list?” She set the bag down on her kitchen counter and opened it. “Beer. Yum, some holiday brews? I knew you had it in you!”

“Yeah, yeah, you threatened me if I just brought the regular stuff, remember?”

She smiled. “Of course. This is a holiday. Ordinary beer would be far too ordinary.”

“What did you assign Cas? He’s still coming, right?”

“Yup.” Charlie opened the refrigerator and started putting the beer inside, moving aside things in the way. “He’s bringing the munchies. He said he might bring something to contribute to dinner, too, but we’re good if he doesn’t. Heck, we could just survive off of snackies if we have to. There will be a wide variety of them. Probably too many.” She shrugged a shoulder. “But New Year’s needs lots of those cute little hors d’oeuvres things. I made a few different things.”

Dean walked over to the table, already decked out with decorations and an assortment of snacks. There was a bowl of M&Ms, some chips, both hot and cold dips. He helped himself to a handful of homemade Chex mix. “I see that. Looking good.” He reached up to tap one of the helium-filled balloons floating up against the ceiling. “Balloons?”

“It’s a party, doofus. Yes, balloons. And you will be wearing a New Year’s party hat. And blowing a horn at midnight. And, you know, maybe you’ll get lucky and get a kiss at midnight.”

Dean’s jaw dropped. He jabbed a finger in her direction. “No. You are not going to maneuver that into happening.”

“But Dean—“

He crossed his arms over his chest. “No. Seriously, Red, I mean it. No.” He could feel his shoulders tensing up and climbing up towards his ears, and heat spreading everywhere. He’d be mortified, absolutely mortified.

Just because the better he got to know Cas, the more he liked him… no.

She sighed. “Fine. I’ll just give you both a chaste kiss on the cheek when the ball drops, because I’m not going to risk my luck for the year, but also… no offense, love you to death, but you’re not my type. Way too many muscles.”

“That’s good, because you’re not my type either. Way too many… um… sisterly vibes.” Couldn’t exactly knock the boobs, because he’d been known to enjoy boobs. He liked boobs.

She grinned. “That works.”

 

Cas arrived soon after. “Dude, how much did you bring?” Dean hurried to relieve him of the top two boxes, handing them off to Charlie before grabbing the last. It was unexpectedly heavy, and warm. “And holy hell, what is in here?”

“My crock pot,” Cas said, shaking his arms out and rolling his shoulders. Dean swallowed, grateful that he was still wearing his coat so the aesthetics were compromised.

“You have a crock pot?”

“They’re quite useful. I appreciate having a hot meal waiting for me when I get home after a particularly long and difficult day. Would you find an outlet and plug it back in? The meatballs aren’t really done yet.”

Dean set the box down. “Meatballs?”

“Yes, three different varieties.”

“Cool!” Charlie explained. “All in the same crockpot, though? Don’t the sauces get all mixed up?”

“I made a divider to keep them separate. I saw it on Pinterest. It’s quite clever, really. You cut down some cardboard to the size you need, making feet on the bottom so that it’ll support itself, then cover it in tin foil. Then you take one of those plastic liners, a large one, and tuck it down into each of the compartments. That keeps the different sauces separate. People have amazing ideas when they need to solve a problem. I find it quite inspiring.”

Dean grinned at him. Quintessential Cas, going on about small things. The thing was he was genuinely interested in it. In everything. “So what kind of meatballs?”

“There are barbecue, Swedish, and sweet and sour. Hopefully you will both like at least one of them.” He shrugged out of his coat and hung it up in Charlie’s closet.

Dean turned around after getting the crock pot plugged in and turned on the low setting.

Turned around and stopped dead in his tracks, because Cas? Cas was wearing a _sweater_. It looked like a really soft sweater, too, in a rich blue that brought out the color of his eyes. The fit was amazing, stretched slightly across his chest without looking tight, clinging to his shoulders and biceps before tapering down to his hips. It was a v-neck, a shallow one, but enough to reveal the hollow of his throat. He was wearing jeans, too, worn jeans that… yeah. That should be illegal. Dean swallowed hard, biting down the urge to ask him to turn around so that he could check out his ass. Were they actually the same pair he’d worn on that casual day, a couple months ago? The ones he couldn’t look away from?

Life wasn’t fair.

Cas caught him looking then, tipped his head to the side and arched a brow in question.

Dean flushed and turned away again, but not before catching Charlie’s smirk. It wasn’t fair of the dude to take him by surprise like that. Usually he could cover better. He considered himself a consummate professional at disguising how he felt about things. Especially guy-related things, growing up with John Winchester.

“What else did you bring?” Charlie asked, clearly taking pity on Dean by offering a distraction. She started digging into the other two boxes.

“Brownies, and cookies. Most of them are leftovers from Christmas that Amelia insisted I bring with me.” Cas took each of the containers from her as she lifted them out of the box.

“Yeah? How are they doing? Amelia and Jimmy and Claire?” Dean asked, hoping that his voice sounded mostly normal. Mostly.

Cas’ smile turned fond. “Claire is beautiful. I have some new pictures, if you want to see them later.”

“Of course I want to see them later. She’s a special munchkin.”

“She is, yes.”

Soon they had the food all arranged on the table, and Charlie fixed the placement of the decorations. She handed out hats. “The noisemakers can wait until midnight, but hats are an all-night type thing,” she decreed. “Looks like we have plenty of food. Yum.” She helped herself to one of the cookies. “Oh. Double yum.”

“There’s enough food here to feed two dozen people,” Dean observed, holding his hat and looking at it with distaste. He despised glitter. “We have three.”

“So we have leftovers.” She grinned. “It’s all good. We can bring some in to work and leave them out in the break room with a cutely lettered ‘Happy New Year’ sign. And I can bring some down to Mrs. Horndoggle, too.”

“Wait, really? Horndoggle?”

“Well, no. Not really. It’s actually just Horner, but I like Horndoggle better. So far I haven’t used it in her presence. She’s sweet. I should introduce you.”

“Maybe you should invite her up for the marathon.”

“I did. Unfortunately for us – fortunately for her, I suppose – she’s spending the holiday with her son in Florida.”

“Speaking of holidays with relatives, how was your trip to your uncle Bobby’s home?” Cas asked Dean, turning to look at him briefly before going back to filling his plate with small helpings of various foods. “And what did you think of your brother’s new girlfriend?”

“Eileen? Oh man, Eileen is awesome. She totally kicks ass. Keeps Sam in line just by giving him a look, and that is so cool to watch. I liked her a lot. She’s deaf, so took a little bit for me to remember to face her when I was talking, but she reads lips quite well. I need to sign up for an ASL class, though, so it’s not all on her. That hardly seems fair.”

“If you’d like I can help you find something,” Cas offered. “We get that type of information in HR, and if we don’t have it I have contacts who would.”

“That would be amazing, thanks!”

He nodded. “Perhaps, if the classes were at a good time, I might join you. I’ve thought about it on occasion. I would like Sandover to do more in reaching out to different communities that have a harder time getting a job. The deaf community is one that we’ve been connecting with. If I could communicate at least a few simple phrases through ASL I think it would make candidates feel more welcomed.”

“That’s just one of the reasons you’re so cool,” Charlie said. “How’s that initiative going over with Walker?”

Cas didn’t quite roll his eyes, but Dean could tell it was a close call. “He understands that community outreach is a valuable marketing tool. So long as it doesn’t cost much.”

Dean snorted. “If you’re serious about the ASL class, I’m definitely in. I got the feeling that this thing between Sam and Eileen could be long term. I hope it is. It feels different than the last girlfriends he’s had. I think they’re good for each other.”

“I’ll look into it as soon as we’re back in the office.”

“Awesome,” Charlie said, popping in between the two of them to snag a tortilla chip and dunk it into the bowl of seasoned taco dip. “I’m going to go get the first movie queued up.”

Soon they were arranged in front of the television, Cas and Dean on the sofa, Charlie curled up in the recliner. Some of the bowls of chips were relocated to the coffee table in front of the TV.

 

“Oh, oh, this is one of my favorite scenes,” Dean said, leaning forward. On the screen, the huge doors in the Hornburg opened, and Aragorn walked through, returning from the presumed dead. “He just looks so hot right here. Those eyes. And the scruff.”

“He’s got scruff through most of the trilogy,” Charlie pointed out.

“Yeah. Great, isn’t it? It’s mostly the eyes, though.”

She got a mischievous look. “Got a thing for blue eyes, do you?”

He choked on the chip he was eating and glared at her, glad that his head was turned away from Cas. He mouthed her name in warning.

She blinked, arching a brow.

He was not impressed by her sudden mock innocence.

“Well?”

Don’t look at Cas. Don’t look at Cas. Just because Cas has the most amazing blue eyes he’d ever seen in his life… no. “Sure, I like blue eyes. But I like any color eyes. Depends more on the person wielding ‘em,” he mumbled.

“Blue eyes and scruff.”

“Just watch the movie, Red.” Dean glared at her and slouched deeper into the cushions of the sofa.

Cas shifted beside him, but Dean still refused to look at him. Last thing he need was for Cas to see how red his face was right now.

“I agree that Aragorn is ‘hot’,” Cas said. “Though for different reasons. I find his steadfast devotion to Arwen appealing, as well as his noble character.”

Dean huffed a laugh at that. Of course Cas would find character more important than physical appearance. But wait.

“Aragorn, though? Not Eowyn?”

“I admire Eowyn too. But I wouldn’t think to call her ‘hot’. My aesthetics slant more in Aragorn’s direction.”

Dean stared at him. Did Cas just come out to him? To them?

“Fair enough,” Charlie said. “Eowyn kicks ass, and I appreciate that immensely. This movie is seriously lacking in kick-ass female characters, but she makes up for a lot. Aside from the hopeless mooning over Aragorn.”

“An excellent point,” Cas agreed.

“Hold that thought. We can debate it more during intermission – but this part is awesome.”

 

The movie ended shortly before midnight. “It’s almost time!” Charlie exclaimed. “Here.” She handed out noisemakers. “Any kissing for good luck in the New Year is up to you, but I’m expecting one from each of you. Just on the cheek, and I assure you it’s completely platonic. So no policy violations here.”

Dean wanted to throttle her.

“Noted,” Cas said, reaching out to pat her lightly on the shoulder. “I won’t report you to the office.”

She grinned. “Thanks!”

They watched the countdown on TV. Dean held onto his noisemaker, feeling silly.

Cas met his gaze, arched one brow. “Are you thinking of holding out on us, Dean?”

“Who, me? Hold out? Be anything less than fully committed? No way!” He gripped the noisemaker. “Bring it on, New Year!”

“Five… four… three…. Two… One! Happy New Year!” Charlie exclaimed, bouncing up and down, blowing her little horn and rattling the noisemaker.

Cas joined her with verve, meeting Dean’s gaze in challenge.

“Oh hell.” He blew his plastic and cardboard horn so hard that it made a terrible splatting noise.

Charlie looped her arms around both of them, pulling them in, and dropping a kiss on each of their cheeks, first Dean and then Cas.

Cas’ face was so close. So close.

New Year’s kiss, for luck. The strength of the simple _want_ that hit him was almost unbearable. Cas’ lips were so pink, and that sweater still looked so soft, so touchable.

For a delusional moment he even thought Cas’ gaze dropped to his own lips, some weird sadness in his eyes.

Dammit.

Dean managed a feeble grin. “Happy New Year, guys.”


	6. Chapter 6

Turned out that Sandover wasn’t actually the job of Dean’s dreams, but… but it had its moments. He enjoyed working with the clients, enjoyed making a sale when he knew that they were meeting the clients’ needs. He didn’t so much enjoy getting pressured to make a sale when he knew it wasn’t a good fit – but he made enough of the good sales that he could get away with it.

He didn’t really like his boss. There was something about Adler that rubbed him the wrong way. Thankfully they didn’t really work that closely together.

The biggest benefit to working there, though, was the opportunity to spend time with Cas and Charlie virtually every day. If they didn’t work together he liked to think they’d continue to be friends, but he couldn’t be sure.

 “Gotta tell you, one of the strangest things? Seeing the new sales associates starting fresh out of college. Was I ever that young?” Dean asked, sitting at Burger Heaven with Cas and Charlie. He dunked a trio of fries into his ketchup.

“You’re still not that much older than they are,” Cas pointed out.

“Hey, I turned 30 this year. 30! There is a world of difference between 22 and 30. So much difference. A world of difference.”

“You’re a decrepit old man,” Charlie offered.

“Ha.”

“I agree with you that it’s interesting,” Cas said. “I’m not always involved in the hiring interviews, but I usually participate in screening resumes before selecting who will get to the first round. Sales is a high turnover position. I usually make private bets with myself on who’s going to last more than two years.”

“Yeah? How private are these bets? Can I get in on the action?” Dean grinned at Cas.

Cas looked offended. “Absolutely not. Wagering on the career prospects of new employees is completely inappropriate.”

“But you just said…”

“Making private bets with myself doesn’t violate any ethical concerns. It’s a useful exercise to see if I can better identify which qualities result in more successful hires.”

“You keep telling yourself that, Cas. So. Do I want to know what the line was on me?”

“Probably not.”

 

One day that summer, Mildred knocked on his office door. “Hello,” she said with a little smile.

“Mildred!” He stood up. “I never see you up on the Sales floor. What’s the occasion?”

Just as she’d promised that first day, she was always the first face he saw when he came in to work each morning. She always had a smile and a pleasant word. Honestly, she was one of his favorite people at Sandover.

“I wanted to tell you in person, before the rumor mill hit,” she said, stepping inside and closing the door.

That didn’t sound good. Dean sat on the corner of his desk, one knee hitched up. “Tell me what?”

“I’m leaving Sandover,” she said. “Tomorrow is my last day.”

Dean was glad he was already sitting. “What? Why? I thought you liked it here.”

She smiled a bittersweet smile. “Mostly, yes. There are people, like you, who make it a joy to come to work each day. Some others… maybe not so much, but they tend to just pass through anyhow, so it’s not so bad.”

“Then why? You’re not retiring, are you? You’re way too young to be retiring.”

That got an indelicate snort. “You’re still full of it, aren’t you. No. I’ll be looking for another job. It’s… well. You know Jerry Panowski?”

Dean had to think a moment to place him. “The building manager?”

She nodded, her smile turning softer, her eyes sparkling. “That’s him. We ran into each other at a swing dance class a couple weeks ago. Community education course. We got to talking during the break, and… well.”

“That sly dog.”

She laughed. “Yes. Anyhow, he’s a manager. Supervises the maintenance staff, so that means that we’re on the wrong side of the rules.” She shrugged helplessly. “What can you do? It makes more sense for me to leave than him. He makes more than I do, and I’d have the easier time finding something else. He’s worth it.”

“It’s that damned anti-fraternization policy, isn’t it,” Dean growled. “Stupid…”

“Hush. There are good reasons for it. Honestly, I don’t mind. I’m happy. But I’ll miss you.”

“I’ll miss you too.” He stood up, opened his arms, and hugged her.

 

“Dammit, Cas!” Dean barely waited to slide into their booth at the diner before swearing at his friend. “Mildred? Really? Doesn’t that show just how stupid the policy is? What does it matter if the receptionist is dating the building manager? What’s he going to do, show favoritism by filling her repair requests faster than anyone else’s?”

“He’s supposed to do that anyhow,” Cas pointed out. “The reception desk is the first thing visitors to the office see. It needs to be maintained in excellent condition so Sandover makes a good first impression.”

“So then what possible reason could there be for making one of them leave if they’re going to date? They both do a good job.”

Cas sighed, straightened his napkin on his lap before meeting Dean’s gaze. “Policies aren’t about individual cases, Dean. They’re about creating a fair workplace. Whether or not Jerry and Mildred are capable of maintaining a workplace relationship without impacting the organization isn’t the point.”

“It should be.”

Cas shook his head. “It can’t be. If it’s allowed for someone, then the next person can claim they aren’t being treated the same, and then management is put into a tenuous legal position. Power dynamics in an organization are sometimes delicate.”

“Answer me something, Cas. Do you really think this thing is a good policy? Or are you just being a good employee and toeing the party line? There’s quite a distance between people dating that met at work and bona fide sexual harassment.”

Cas’ gaze shifted to Dean, then away, then back again. He tugged at his tie, then straightened it. “It’s an issue I am passionate about,” he finally said. “I realize that it’s a strict policy, but I like it that way.”

“Why? I don’t get it.”

“Because I’ve had personal experience with the results of bad relationships at the workplace. Not myself, but Amelia. My sister-in-law.”

“Claire’s mom, yeah. I thought you said she and Jimmy got together in school.”

“They did. But when they were first married, she found herself competing for a position at her employer against another woman, one who, it was later discovered, was having an affair with their manager. Amelia was far more qualified than the other woman, but she was offered the position, and promptly turned around and found a way to fire Amelia. We talked about fighting it, but by then Amelia had just discovered another in vitro attempt hadn’t worked, and she quite frankly didn’t have the energy to fight, even though the loss of the job hurt them greatly.”

“The policy wouldn’t have stopped the affair.”

“No, probably not, but it would have given the company standing to terminate both employees, and Amelia wouldn’t have lost her job. A job that she loved, before this happened.”

Dean frowned. “Yeah, okay. I guess I get it.”

He could see it. Still wasn’t the approach he’d take, but he could see it. More importantly, he could see why Cas was so passionate about it.

So. No dating other Sandover employees, even if the only person he’d really wanted to date since he’d first arrived was sitting right across from him.

Shit.

 

Dean showed up at Cas’ office in the middle of the work day. “This is weird, huh? An actual, official meeting? With a designated starting and ending time, even.”

Cas looked up, gave the impression of rolling his eyes even when he didn’t do anything more than look straight at him. “Come in, Dean, and close the door behind you,” he said. “Personnel discussions require more privacy.”

“Even when they aren’t currently personnel?”

“They could be.”

“Right.” Dean sat down in the chair across from Cas’ desk, pushing it out far enough that he could cross his legs, one foot raised to rest on his knee. It was a Tuesday, so Cas was wearing one of the navy blue suits. Unusually, however, he was also wearing a gray tie with diagonal red stripes.  “Hey, living dangerously today,” he said.

“What?”

“You… your…” Dean gestured vaguely towards his tie. “Never mind. So what’s the scoop?”

Cas stared at him a moment longer, then shrugged and leaned forward on the desk, steepling his fingers. “In point of fact, this is a personnel discussion.”

“But the invite said it was to go over the new training modules.”

“Yes, the meeting subject was intentionally misleading. I regret misleading you, but your calendar is visible to the administrative staff, so it was necessary to not create any suspicion.”

Dean put his foot back down on the floor again. “So this is something serious. What’s going on?”

“Naomi Ross has tendered her resignation, effective immediately.”

“What? But she’s one of my people, why did that go through you instead of me?”

“She was… reluctant to discuss the specifics of the situation, but she was extremely upset. It has nothing to do with you directly, let me assure you of that. I’m not at liberty to discuss in any more detail, I’m afraid. The legal department is involved, and you may be on the receiving end of some of their questions, but I’ve been warned not to say anything more than that.”

“Holy shit.” When Cas pulled his whole super-serious routine, it was just that. Super serious. There was no way he was going to crack and reveal anything he shouldn’t. “Okay… so what does that mean?”

“As her manager, you’ll need to be present when the contents of her desk are boxed up for her. You’ll need to help identify what’s work-related and what’s personal. Also, in order to handle this as… cleanly as possible, I’d ask you to send out an email announcing her departure, mentioning the usual.”

“Pursue other opportunities? Code words for either fired or burning every bridge spectacularly?”

“Yes. Something like that. Yes.”

Dean blew out his breath. “Wow. Okay. Yeah, I can do that. Effective immediately, Naomi Ross is no longer working for Sandover. She’s left to pursue other opportunities, and we wish her the best.”

“Yes, exactly.”

“You ever going to be able to tell me more about what’s really going on here?”

“I’m not certain if there’s a statute of limitations or not.”

“I bet you know a ton of juicy gossip.”

Cas gave him a flat look. “It’s not gossip when it’s peoples’ lives, Dean.”

How did the guy manage to make him feel like the kid on the playground who made fun of the other kids? That kid who tried too hard, the one that boosted his own popularity by pushing other people down? Dean didn’t think he was that person, but sometimes… sometimes he thought maybe he was, at heart.

“Okay, you’re right. Sorry. Okay, I’ll head out and get the announcement made. You sure there’s nothing more you can tell me?”

“Not right now, Dean, no. I’m sorry.”

“Not a problem, Cas. And Cas? Maybe drink tea instead of coffee today. You tend to get heartburn when you drink coffee if you’re upset to start with.”

Cas blinked in surprise. “Ah. Yes… yes, you’re right. Thank you for pointing that out.”

Dean just smiled, and headed out.

 


	7. Chapter 7

The email about Naomi Ross’ unexpected departure had barely gone out when there was a knock on the frame of Dean’s open office door. He looked up from his monitor to see Bela Talbot standing there.

She looked different than she had earlier in the day, somehow. It took him a moment to figure out how. Different eye makeup… more of that, what did they call it, the smoky look? Longer lashes. Redder lips. And her skirt… was it shorter? And how did her blouse look tighter?

He straightened up in his seat, bracing himself. “Hello, Bela. How can I help you?”

“So Naomi left the company, did she? How unfortunate. We’re going to miss her.”

Maybe not so much, but he couldn’t say that. Even if he was aware that Bela liked her even less than he did. “Yes, we are. It sounds like her new position is something that will suit her well, though.” He hoped she didn’t ask any questions. Dean didn’t have a clue what Naomi was actually planning to do now. Maybe she was just going to watch Netflix all day and knit.

He couldn’t imagine ambitious Naomi Ross knitting. But who the hell knew? He’d been wrong about bigger things than that.

“Mm. Maybe.” She didn’t say she wished her well. No surprise there.

Bela stepped further into his office, walking the short distance to his desk with a distinctive sway to her hips. “So, Dean…” Bela said, hiking one leg up as she sat on the corner of his desk. Her skirt had a slit in it that reached almost to her hip. It fell away, revealing the long length of her leg. She did have nice legs, he absently noticed. Not that the sight of them did anything for him, other than triggering a vague aesthetic appreciation. “Now that Naomi is retiring, have you given any thought to who you’ll hire for the open position?”

Well. Holy shit. Was she seriously doing this? Here? At Sandover?

Holy shit.

To make matters worse, she leaned down just enough to reveal a hint of cleavage. From a blouse that was unbuttoned one or two buttons lower than it should be.

Fine, if they were at a bar. Part of the game. But at work…

He couldn’t help but think about what Cas would say. Cas, with his strong opinions about sexual harassment in the workplace, and the ethical violations involved.

Yeah. No. This wasn’t happening. Not a chance.

“She’s not retiring,” he corrected, barely aware of what he was saying.

Holy shit.

Okay, Winchester, pull it together. He cleared his throat, sat up straighter. “There’s a chair over there, if you want to discuss the position,” he said, trying to inject icy civility into his tone. “My desk is not a seat.”

She pouted, took a long moment to move, going out of her way to make it a sinuous motion. She sat down slowly, crossing her legs deliberately. “I do want to discuss the position. That position… and possibly others, if you know what I mean.” She licked her lips entirely too slowly.

“Get out,” he said, his voice frosty. “You are behaving entirely inappropriately.”

“Oh come on, Mr. Winchester. We both have things we can offer each other. We should take a little more time on… _negotiations_.”

He stood. “Get out.”

She stood, her gaze hardening. “You’ll regret this, if you don’t work with me here. I can make your life a living hell.”

“Try me,” he said, perhaps recklessly. “Just try me.”

“Oh, I will. Believe me. You’re making a mistake. You’re sure you won’t reconsider?”

“Out.” He was going to start shaking soon. She had to leave before that happened. That would _not_ project the image of a secure, confident manager.

Bela fixed him with a cold stare for what felt like forever, then finally spun on one perfect stiletto heel and stalked out of the office.

Dean blew out his breath, got up and closed his office door behind her. He stood behind it, reaching up and squeezing the back of his own neck.

Shit.

Now that it was over, he was honest to God trembling.

He hadn’t really believed that kind of thing happened in real life. Not to him. That? That was something that happened other places. To other people. Not here. Not to him.

Damn. So all of Cas’ training sessions really did have a point to them.

Cas.

“Fuck,” he breathed under his breath.

What was he going to do? Did he go talk to Cas about this, right away? Cas would say yes. But… but it was more complicated than that, wasn’t it? Bela actually was really good at her job. Naomi’s position was a big jump, but not quite such a big jump that it was utterly unbelievable.

She hadn’t _actually_ done anything. Just implied it. Okay, there might have been a threat there, but he couldn’t prove that, could he? And she was popular around the office, in certain circles.

Particularly, it occurred to him, with his own boss, Zachariah Adler.

He let his forehead come down against the door with a thunk.

What if she’d done something similar with him? He cringed at the very thought. Zach and sex didn’t belong in the same sentence. Eww. Just eww.

But that didn’t mean…

He should talk to Cas, but Cas was HR. All the more reason, officially, to talk to him. But unofficially? The idea of discussing this with his friend, with… okay, man up and admit it… with his _crush_? It should be easy, but it wasn’t.

Maybe if he pretended like it never happened it would go away. That could work. It could definitely work.

It probably wouldn’t work, but it didn’t require him to actually do anything.

 

 

 

Keeping the secret of Bela’s behavior weighed on Dean. The worst was when he was out with Cas and Charlie, whether for Lunch Quest or for after work social occasions. Charlie invited them over for game nights, or trivia night at the dive bar. They actually made a really good team for trivia. Charlie and Dean knew pop culture, and while their interests were similar, they didn’t completely overlap, so they could answer different questions. Cas was good with history, both cultural and natural. Charlie’s girlfriend Dorothy was great with sports.

Tonight, they were kicking ass. Charlie and Dorothy got up between rounds of trivia to play some darts; another thing that Dorothy kicked ass at. Dean smiled and nodded at the server when she set two more beers down at their table. She smiled back.

Cas sat across from him in the booth. Times like this, when they were out with Charlie and Dorothy, he often got this wistful feeling. For all intents and purposes they were double dating, except they weren’t actually dating at all. He refused to be jealous of his friends. Just because his heart ached every time Charlie looked at Dorothy with adoring eyes, every time she bumped up against her, every time they whispered something and laughed… Dean sighed.

Cas sipped at his beer, set it down, then sipped at it again, a faint frown between his eyes as he watched Dean. Finally he nodded to himself, straightening his posture. “Dean. Is something going on?”

“What?” Dean startled.

“You’ve been acting differently. Distracted.”

“No, I—“ Shit. Shit. Was Cas somehow picking up on Dean’s envy of Charlie and Dorothy? He wasn’t jealous. He wasn’t. Or maybe it was the whole Bela thing. Six of one, half a dozen of the other. They were both incriminating.

Cas gave him a flat look that clearly communicated he wasn’t up for listening to Dean spin some bullshit story.

That was both annoying and strangely endearing. Okay.

There was no way in hell Dean was going to say anything on the envy front. The Bela front… Dean still couldn’t tell him what had actually happened. Every time he considered it, it was like an engine refusing to crank over. He’d get this tight feeling of near-panic, he couldn’t breathe, until he mentally backed off. It didn’t make any sense. He hadn’t done anything. It was all Bela. He had absolutely no reason to feel the way he did.

And yet he did.

Cas was still waiting, though, and Dean knew he wasn’t going to be able to wriggle out of this one. So. Wishing these were _really_ double dates was out. Confessing to the Bela incident was out. That left…

“I’ve been worried about finding Naomi’s replacement. Replacement’s probably the wrong word. Successor. There are some internal candidates, as you know. I’m not sure any of them are really the best choice. But we’re at a bar, playing trivia. Not at work. So, you know. Trying not to bring that up right now. Leave work at work.”

Cas’ gaze narrowed at him. Dean’s collar felt tight. Please buy it, Cas. Please, please, please.

“A small amount of work conversation after hours isn’t completely off limits,” he finally said. “I am generally in favor of promoting from within, but I agree that the internal candidates are, perhaps, not ready for a more senior position. Have you had a chance to look at all of the resumes I’ve forwarded to you?”

“Yeah, there are a couple of the external ones that look really promising. I’m looking forward to talking to them. Billie, especially. She looks pretty kick-ass on her resume. Still, I have to give the internal people a fair chance. Maybe they’ll surprise me in the interviews.” Dean felt trapped – but knew it was of his own making. He didn’t want to talk about job candidates, but he couldn’t talk about the things he did want to. Things like what was Cas’ ideal date, was he even interested in dating, or hooking up. Did he hook up? He didn’t seem like the type, but he also didn’t seem like the type that would kiss and tell, so the mystery remained.

Charlie and Dorothy returned, then, sliding into the booth with them. “Almost time for the next round of trivia, bitches! You ready to take back the crown?”

 

After the interview process was over, Dean sat with Adler in his office. “So after talking to all the candidates, I’d like to extend the offer to Billie Harding. She really impressed me during the interview, and her references were all glowing.”

Adler leaned back in his chair, playing with his pen. “I think you should promote Bela Talbot.”

A sick chill ran down his spine, settling in his stomach like shards of ice. He didn’t… that didn’t mean what he thought it did, did it?

He’d give Adler the benefit of the doubt as long as he could. “Bela is good at what she does, but Billie has more experience, and would bring a skill set that we’re currently lacking. She also has current relationships with potential clients that could increase our business portfolio and profits.” There. The whole profit motive.

Adler shook his head. “I think it’s important to promote from within.” He pushed a piece of paper across the desk. “This is what you should offer Bela.”

He took a look despite himself. What the hell! That was nearly _his_ salary, and the commission percentage was higher!

“That’s outside the salary range for the position.”

“We can make it work.”

Damn, damn, damn. Well. Time to show that he could stand up for himself. “I thought that this was my decision,” he said, staring Adler down. “It’s my department. My staff.” He picked up the sheet Adler had passed him and tore it in half before getting up and leaving.

 

He almost went up to Cas’ office then and there, but… he couldn’t, right? Not after not saying anything right away. And it was over. He’d stood up for himself. It was his right to choose who to hire. It was.

And Billie? Billie kicked ass.

 

Dean met Cas for dinner after work on Friday at Cas’ place. They had a standing dinner night twice a month. At first they’d tried rotating whose place it was at, but gradually it ended up being at Cas’ more often than not. Cas actually had a house, unlike Dean and Charlie. Charlie couldn’t make it tonight; she had weekend plans with Dorothy, a weekend trip out of town that she’d been looking forward to forever.

It meant, however, that it was just Dean and Cas at Cas’ house for dinner.

Dean let himself into the house after ringing the doorbell. They were far past waiting for each other to answer. He felt as much at home here as he did in his own apartment.

Hell, he probably felt _more_ at home here.

“Heya, Cas. Smells awesome. What are we making tonight?” He walked right into the kitchen and up to the stove, where Cas was stirring some meat mixture in a frypan. The kitchen was small but tidy. The walls were painted a cheerful buttery yellow, with red and black accents. There were plenty of mismatched elements too. The cookie jar was a monstrously ugly thing – a porcelain vase of flowers, the vase a horrible sickly green, and the flowers badly formed. But Cas had gotten it for his last birthday from Claire, who found it at a neighbor’s garage sale, and it therefore held pride of place in the kitchen.

“What are _we_ making?” Cas questioned, arching a brow at Dean.

Dean grinned unapologetically. “I help.”

“Yes, I suppose you do. I started earlier tonight because this dish requires simmering for a long time; the longer it simmers, the richer the flavors. According to the recipe.”

Just last year Cas had watched _Julie and Julia_ , and gotten enamored of the premise. He didn’t want to work through a Julia Child cookbook, but he did decide to try a new recipe every week. The more elaborate ones he saved for their regular dinners.

Dean figured that was so that if they turned out awful, he could torture all of them.

The first few efforts had been questionable, but now? Dean could honestly say Cas had improved immensely. He loved the way the guy applied himself to anything he took an interest in. There were no half measures where Castiel Novak was concerned. If he was going to do something, he was going to master it.

Dean had ten sets of scarves and hats to prove it, from the knitting kick. The first two sets were… well, the scarves weren’t bad, but the hats? One of them was so tight that it made his head hurt when he jammed it on his head, and the other was so uneven that it was hard to say if it was a hat or a toaster cover. The latest ones, though, were amazing, with complicated patterns and the softest yarn. If he was feeling particularly sentimental, which he would never openly admit to, it felt like being wrapped in a hug.

Dean reached into the refrigerator and snagged a beer, noticing that Cas had stocked his favorite even though he didn’t personally care for it. Cas was always doing things like that. It warmed the cockles of his heart.

And now he was going to have to look up what the hell that even meant. He could ask Sam. Sam would probably just know without even having to resort to the almighty Google. But that would mean asking Sam, and Sam, in turn, asking why he needed to know. So that was out.

His heart twisted in a familiar way. He wished it meant something more than that Cas was a considerate friend. After all, there was a stash of Charlie’s favorite as well, and now some of Dorothy’s too, now that Dorothy was a guest more often than not.

“You didn’t answer me what you’re making, though.”

“It’s a cassoulet.”

“What’s that? Sounds French.”

“That’s because it is. The main ingredients are sausage and beans.”

“Beans, hm? Beans, beans, the magical fruit. The more you eat, the more you toot.”

Dean couldn’t see it, but he was entirely certain Cas was rolling his eyes right now.

Dean leaned over his shoulder and inhaled deeply, and if he ‘accidentally’ brushed their hips together, who was going to notice?

Other than himself, of course. Why did he torture himself this way? Sometimes, especially during these times when Charlie wasn’t around, he could almost picture it… himself and Cas making dinner together, a scene of domestic bliss. It wouldn’t even be that different, except that he’d have the freedom to press a kiss right at that spot where Cas’ neck met his torso, where his collar was bent funny. Cas would tip his head to the side, making for easier access, and Dean would slide his arms around him, and maybe the food would be set aside, worse for having waited, but oh so worth it.

He sighed.

“Is something wrong, Dean?”

Dean flushed. “No. No. Just thinking.”

 

Over dinner Dean couldn’t help but notice Cas watching him more than usual, with that little furrow between his brows that meant he was trying to figure something out.

“What?” he finally said.

“What what?”

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

Cas squinted for a moment, then set his fork down. “You have continued to seem distracted lately. Not just here. At the office, too. Even now that the open position has been filled. Are you sure that there isn’t something going on?”

Shit. Maybe he had been distracted, focused on what might be going on with Adler and Bela, especially now that he’d sent the offer to Billie and she’d accepted.

“No. No. Nothing’s going on. Did you use the expensive wine in this sauce? It tastes… well, I don’t know how to explain it, but it doesn’t have that same weird aftertaste that it does when I try to use wine in cooking, but I usually use the crap that they sell at the grocery store for two bucks a bottle.”

Cas fell for it, launching into a discussion about how he had chosen the particular wine to use in the dish. Dean was grateful.

Maybe, if he was lucky, the whole Bela thing would just go away as though it had never happened.

 


	8. Chapter 8

Dean was rarely if ever lucky.

His desk phone rang while he was in the middle of reviewing the monthly sales figures. He glanced up, saw it was Cas, and picked up. “Hey Cas. What’s up?”

There was a pause before Cas spoke. “Mr. Winchester. I need to see you in my office, please. Immediately.”

Mr. Winchester? What the hell? His stomach dropped.

“Uh, I’m kind of in the middle of something here, Cas…” He picked up some papers and rustled them around.

“Immediately, please,” he repeated, then hung up.

Dean stared at the phone. What the hell? That was… okay. This did not exactly give him warm fuzzies.

He got up and headed up to Cas’ office.

Cas was pacing. He looked… well. To Dean, who knew him well, he looked upset. “Come in,” he said. “And close the door, please.”

“What’s this about, Cas?” Dean said quietly. Whatever it was, it wasn’t good.

Cas took a deep breath, and sat at the small table in the corner of his office. “Have a seat, please.”

Dean sat. And waited.

Cas nodded once, briskly, as though telling himself to get on with it. He steepled his fingers and met Dean’s gaze. “I’ve had a complaint filed against you. A sexual harassment complaint. Bela Talbot claims that you solicited her for sexual favors in exchange for a promotion to the Regional Sales Director position – and that when she refused your advances, you instead hired Billie despite the fact that Ms. Talbot was more qualified.”

“What? Cas, what the f—udge?”

Cas simply met his gaze, saying nothing further.

“Cas, you’ve got to be kidding me. You don’t actually believe her, do you?”

“I have a duty to take all such complaints seriously. Though, given that you and I are close friends, I am obligated to recuse myself from the investigation because Ms. Talbot would be able to reasonably claim bias. That means that Mr. Walker will either investigate himself, or possibly choose to retain outside legal counsel to investigate.”

“Cas, you were involved in the interview process. You know how well qualified Billie is, and how lucky we were to get her.”

“Why would Ms. Talbot make these claims, then?”

“Because she’s a raving lunatic!” he exclaimed, slapping his hand down on the table. “Okay, so she might have come on to me, and implied she’d be willing to ‘negotiate’, her words, not mine. I turned her down.”

“Dean. Why didn’t you bring that to my attention at the time?”

“Because I hoped if I ignored it, it would go away,” he admitted.

Cas sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose.

“She did say she’d make me regret turning her down,” Dean mumbled, feeling guilty. “Damn. I never thought this is the route she’d take.”

“Cases like these are difficult because they are always the word of one person against another. However… she isn’t without any corroborating evidence.”

“What?” Dean’s eyes popped open. “How can there be corroborating evidence when _nothing happened?”_

“I’m not at liberty to reveal that information.”

Adler. He’d shown up before Bela left his office. And he’d also insisted that Dean hire her for the position. She had something on him. Dean didn’t want to think what, but there was something. Had to be.

He stood up, unable to stay seated. He was angry, and hurt. He didn’t think Cas believed this, but still, the fact that he had to remain neutral… Dean understood, but that didn’t mean it didn’t still hurt that his best friend didn’t come to his defense.

“Well this fucking sucks. I sure as hell didn’t seek any sexual favors from Bela Talbot. She’s… fuck. I wouldn’t. There’s only one person in this company that I’ve ever wanted to sleep with, and you can certainly attest that I’ve never once made a move on you despite ample opportunities, because I _respect_ the god-damn anti-dating policy even if I think it’s stupid!”

And… oh shit. He didn’t actually say that, did he? No. Noooooo. His stomach plunged somewhere in the vicinity of his feet.

Cas’ face had gone white, his eyes wide with shock. “…Dean?”

“Oh shit. Shit, fuck, damn, shit, FUCK.” Dean stumbled to his feet. “Fuck.” He fumbled with the door, yanked it open, and fled the scene.

 

He didn’t bother going back to his office. He had his keys and wallet in his pocket. He didn’t need anything else.

He couldn’t believe he’d done that. Months of keeping his feelings carefully hidden, and then just like that, he blew it all. He was mortified – and worse, terrified. He had no idea how Cas was going to react to that news.

The potential trouble with the Bela situation paled in comparison. It shouldn’t. They were serious charges, and honestly he didn’t know how he was going to prove his innocence. He could lose his job over that.

But… he could lose Cas over what he’d just said.

His heart knew which was the bigger loss.

 

Dean just drove. Driving was soothing, and it required just enough of his attention that he couldn’t let himself get too deep in his own head.

He briefly considered calling Sam, but he couldn’t do it. He’d have to explain everything. He couldn’t handle Sam’s sympathetic cooing, or Eileen’s kick in the pants. Maybe he needed them, both of them, but not yet.

God, what was he going to do? What _could_ he do? What was Cas going to do? His mind turned round and round, but in the end he knew the only thing he could really do was go to work and find out.

He sure as hell wasn’t going to call Cas and talk to him before he had to.

He had a horrible night, but he dragged himself to work the next morning, though he went straight to his office and tried to avoid talking to anyone.

For all the good it did. Charlie still showed up almost right away. “Oh my God, Dean — are you okay?” Charlie leaned into Dean’s office at Sandover, her eyes wide with concern. “You look awful.”

Great. He knew it showed, but that didn’t mean he appreciated the confirmation. He looked up, flushed. “Did he tell you what I said? And what’s going on?”

If anything her eyes got wider. She stepped inside after looking both ways, closed the door behind herself. “You haven’t heard. Cas turned in his notice. Walker told him not to bother with his two weeks, and to clean out his office immediately.”

Dean’s blood ran cold, his fingertips turning to ice. “What?” Good thing he was already sitting, or his knees might have given out on him. “Cas? Cas quit?” _Without telling me?_

“Yeah. He did. Dean, what’s going on?”

He stared at her, shook his head. “I can’t… I’ll tell you, I promise, but I can’t, not yet. Okay? Please?”

She bit her lower lip, then nodded. “Yeah. Okay. I’ve got your back.”

 


	9. Chapter 9

Dean still couldn’t believe it.

Cas had quit. There was an official email about it, with that obnoxious ‘pursuit of other opportunities’ line.

He didn’t know what to think, other than that it had to be his fault, somehow. His unintended confession had to be the reason, no matter what office gossip had to say.

There was office gossip. Lots and lots and lots of office gossip. People were whispering around every corner. First Naomi, now Castiel, too close together for it to be coincidence.

Dean didn’t want to listen, but he couldn’t keep it out. The speculation was insane. Cas had always been a model employee, always calm and collected, always professional. No one had anything real to say about him, so they had to make things up. The stories got wilder and wilder. Drug addiction? What the hell? Embezzling? _It’s always the quiet ones…_

It was insane.

What the hell was he going to do?

He rubbed his temples, feeling the migraine to end all migraines coming on. Of course that’s when Adler knocked briskly on his open door, stepping through and closing the door behind him without waiting for any sort of a response.

“Winchester,” he said, coming forward and seating himself. Dean always hated when he did that. It didn’t happen often; Zachariah Adler didn’t much care for going to other peoples’ offices. He preferred to make people come to him.

“Mr. Adler.” Dean straightened. “How can I help you?”

Adler picked up one of Dean’s pens from his desk and started playing with it, set it down, then picked up the weird stress ball Sam had given him a couple years ago. When he squeezed it, its tongue and eyeballs popped out. It was the ugliest thing on earth.

Dean loved it, and having Adler handling it made him want to snap.

“With Novak out of the picture, I’ve been temporarily given responsibility for Human Resources,” he said. “This situation with Bela Talbot is… unfortunate. I’m disappointed in you, Winchester. I would have never expected this.”

Oh hell. Really? He’d been too much on edge the last 24 hours to let that go. Rage ignited in his gut, quickly racing along his nerves until he felt like he was on fire. He half stood, leaning forward over his desk. “Don’t even try that with me, _sir_ ,” he ground out. “We both know she’s manufacturing this whole thing. We both know she’s got something on you, or you want something from her, badly enough to twist and bend every rule and policy to get her this job for a frankly ridiculous wage, even though Billie is ten times the salesperson Bela will ever be. That is, if your criterion is doing what’s right for your client while making a fair profit. If your criterion is gouging your clients for as much as you can, then okay. Bela’s the right choice.”

“You’re burying yourself pretty deep here, Winchester.” Adler’s gaze narrowed. It made him look like a pug.

Dean felt curiously light, giving himself permission to actually think that about his boss.

“You know what? I don’t even give a fuck. This place isn’t what I thought it was, and if this is the way it is now? Then I’ll happily burn my bridges. I quit.”

“Don’t think that quitting will let you escape legal culpability,” Zach says. “And you can’t quit. You’re fired.”

“Did I ever tell you my brother’s a lawyer? With a very prestigious law firm that has a really good record with respect to employment law?” He didn’t actually know if that part was true, but if it wasn’t? And he needed it? He had every confidence that Sam knew a kick-ass lawyer.

“Get out.”

“I’m going to take my time packing my things, and then yeah. I’m out.”

 

When it was all over he went home, shaking in reaction. He didn’t know what he was going to do now, now that his whole life had imploded.

He made it home, picked up the phone and called Sam.

“I quit my job,” he opened without any preamble.

“You… what? What’s going on, Dean?” Sam sounded completely thrown, which, okay, fair enough. Dean hadn’t exactly been sharing with him, either.

“You know, I’m not exactly a model citizen. I’m not. But hell, the stuff that’s been going on there is making my head spin. And then Cas…” He choked up. “I fucked up, Sammy. I fucked up so bad.”

Sam made a small sound on the other end of the line. Dean could hear him get up and go close a door. “Okay. Tell me what happened,” he said, softly.

Haltingly at first, then more smoothly, Dean told him everything. Sam refrained, probably with great difficulty, from telling him what he should have done differently with the Bela situation. Dean was grateful for that.

“I just can’t get over the way Cas looked at me when I spilled my deep, dark secret.” Dean rubbed at the back of his neck, then stared up at the ceiling. “It was… I don’t even know what it was. Shock. Dismay. Pretty clear I destroyed our friendship with that one, and damn. I could live with wanting him but still being friends. Just being around the guy… Fuck.”

“I don’t know what to say, Dean. Maybe you should give him a call? Talk it out? Maybe it’s not as bad as you think.”

Dean snorted. Right. Calling Cas? Give him the opportunity to kindly but firmly put him out of his misery? _You’re a good friend, Dean, but I don’t see you that way and I think it’s best if we keep our distance. My quitting wasn’t enough of a clue for you?_

“Yeah, that ain’t gonna work for me. Well. I should let you go. You’ve probably got work to do.”

“I’m never too busy when you need to talk,” Sam said. “I just wish I wasn’t all the way in California right now. Maybe you can come out here for a bit, while you figure out what your next steps are.”

“Maybe. I’ll… I’ll let you know, Sammy. Thanks.”

He was going to start by not thinking about it for a few days, though. Maybe a little whiskey. Not too much, though. Been there, done that, didn’t have any intentions of returning.

Dean hid out in his apartment for a few days, bingeing on pizza and beer and his complete boxed set of Dr. Sexy. He didn’t want to think about looking for a new job yet. He couldn’t let it go too long, but… a little longer.

On the fourth day his apartment buzzer went off. Repeatedly.

“I’m coming, I’m coming,” Dean called out, annoyed. Must be the new kid from the pizza place, the one that had absolutely zero patience. That damned buzzer was the most annoying sound. Dean scrubbed his hand across his chin, feeling the burn of stubble. He hadn’t shaved in days. Maybe he was being stubbornly self-indulgent. He preferred that to ‘wallowing’, which Sam accused him of.

He didn’t wallow.

His jaw dropped when he looked through the security opening.

He opened the door. “Cas?”

Castiel Novak stood outside Dean’s apartment door, a bouquet of red roses in one arm, a paper bag with the neck of a bottle poking out the top in the other. He looked amazing, all dressed up in Dean’s favorite Wednesday suit – the gray one that actually fit him –  tailored white dress shirt, blue silk tie to match the brilliant blue of his eyes. Dean could even smell a hint of cologne. The familiar Old Spice, he thought. Thank God. That scent was so much a part of Cas that Dean wasn’t sure he’d recognize the guy if he smelled like something else.

 

 

“Hello, Dean.” His adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed, shifting slightly from foot to foot. “I, um, hope I am not making a complete fool of myself.”

“What?” Dean couldn’t think. What was even going on? Not ten minutes ago he’s been mourning the best friendship he’d ever had, thinking he would never see Cas again, and now… this?

Cas cleared his throat. “May I come in? Or would you prefer I leave?”

“God, no. Don’t… yeah. Come in.” Dean stepped aside, staring at Cas.

Cas stepped past Dean into the condo, closing the door and extending the flowers and bottle towards Dean. “I am given to understand that flowers and wine are proper gifts to bring. However, I thought you might prefer Scotch.”

Dean took the bag, looked inside. A bottle of a nicely aged Scotch whisky was there.

“Gifts? Cas, man, I’m happy as hell to see you, but gotta admit I’m confused.” He took both the flowers and the bottle, set them down on the small table beside the front door where he kept his wallet and keys.

Cas raised his chin slightly in a gesture Dean knew meant he was bracing himself to say something he wasn’t sure would get the reaction he wanted, but felt was important enough to say anyhow. “Dean Winchester. Would you do me the honor of joining me for dinner? As… as my date?”

Dean froze, looked at him. “Cas?”

Cas swallowed, looked to the side, then back to Dean. “The other day… what you said. I… I hadn’t realized you felt that way. About me. You do, don’t you? It wasn’t just something you said?” His voice was vulnerable, even scared.

Dean simply couldn’t have that. Not Cas. Cas should never be vulnerable or afraid, not if it was in Dean’s power to fix it.

He swallowed. “No. It wasn’t just something I said. Cas. I… I meant it. Every word.” He stepped forward, reached out to grip Cas’ bicep through the coat. The heat burned, in the best way. “Every word. Does this mean…” He tugged lightly at Cas’ blue-striped tie. “You quit.”

“I did. I had to.”

“Why?”

“Dean. You know the answer to that question.”

Cas looked into his eyes, willing him to understand without having to say anything more.

“Cas.” Dean practically groaned his name, pulling him in harder, going in for a kiss. Cas’ lips under his were full, soft, opened in a slight ‘o’ of surprise before he got with the program, his hands coming up to cup Dean’s face between his palms, holding him in place as he surged forward as well.

The kiss quickly grew heated, hard, desperate, but with a wondrous edge of tenderness. Dean had never felt anything like it. He felt like he was floating, disconnected from reality. Was this really happening?

When he couldn’t breathe he pulled away slightly, dazed. He blinked once, twice, bringing Cas back into focus. “You’ve always been a proponent of that damned dating policy.”

What a stupid thing to say. Clearly his brain was still offline.

But Cas nodded. He panted a little, catching his breath. He hadn’t yet dropped his hands from Dean’s face. His thumb brushed at the corner of Dean’s mouth, and a soft smile graced his mouth. “I still am. I could not possibly date a co-worker, not when I had an obligation to act according to the policies I enforced. So there was only one possible solution, when I learned that you might be open to taking our relationship in a different direction.”

“To quit.”

Cas nodded. “Yes. To resign. There was truly no other choice, not for me.” He leaned in and pressed another soft kiss against Dean’s mouth.

Dean laughed in sheer overwhelmed relief. “Wow.” Then he laughed again. “Look at you. You look amazing, and here I am in worn out sweats and a t-shirt.”

“I wanted to present myself well when I presented my case.” Cas gave him a small smile, the sweet, slightly shy one that always made Dean’s heart flip. “You still look amazing. You always look beautiful to me,” he stated simply.

“Cas, you can’t just say things like that,” Dean protested.

“No?”

“Well…” Dean blushed. “Okay, maybe. But only in private, deal?”

Cas laughed. “Deal. You do look as though you are perhaps overdue for a shower and shave, however. It’s an appealing look on you.” He leg his hand slide down over Dean’s breastbone. His skin tingled everywhere Cas touched, even through the thin fabric of the worn AC/DC tee.

Cas hesitated a moment, catching his lower lip between his teeth, then slowly, achingly slowly, slide his hand to the side and up, until his fingertips brushed deliberately over Dean’s nipple.

Dean’s breath hissed through his teeth. “Cas.”

“You like that.” It wasn’t a question.

“Fuck yes, I like that. But you’re right. I’m a mess. Let me… let me take a quick shower, huh? Here you are looking like a dream, and I’m a mess.” Dean brushed his fingers over Cas’ shoulders. “This is my favorite suit of yours. The Wednesday suit.”

“You know my…?”

“I know a lot of things about you, Mr. Novak.” Dean brushed another kiss over Cas’ lips, lingering, catching his lower lip between his teeth and nipping lightly. “I’d like to get you out of that suit,” he admitted.

Cas moaned. “Dean?”

“Yeah?”

“Is there room in your shower for two?”

 

Later, much later, Dean and Cas were curled up on Dean’s sofa, Cas borrowing a pair of Dean’s sleep pants and a tee. Dean still felt completely bemused, thrilled but vaguely confused by the turn his life had just taken.

He played with Cas’ hair as Cas leaned up against him. “I quit, too,” he said softly. “Did you hear that?”

“What?” Cas sat up, looking at him in shock.

Dean nodded. “Same day you did. Or maybe the next day, I guess. Same day I heard, anyhow. Adler got made acting HR, and how the hell that happened I have no idea, but that’s a different issue entirely. Anyhow, he came in and was all up in my face about Bela. I just… right then and there, I decided it wasn’t worth it. Sandover isn’t worth it, not with that crap going on. Has it always been going on?”

Cas sighed. “Some of it, perhaps. I tried my best to instill a sense of ethics, but… there’s only so much I could do. Most of the people are wonderful and deserve better, but as in any organization, there are a few who have the capability of ruining it for everyone else. When some of that comes from the higher levels of the organization… well. It was easier for me to quit than I thought it would be, when I had additional motivation.”

“Same. I didn’t want to deal with it when you weren’t there to make it worthwhile. I feel bad about Billie, though. Hiring her, and now abandoning her to that.”

“She’ll land on her feet. You’re right about her… she’s highly skilled, highly marketable. She’ll be fine.”

“Yeah. I still want to reach out to her and apologize. And I’ve been blowing off Charlie’s calls and texts. I kind of expect her to show up at the door soon.” He considered that. “I should text her and make some sort of arrangements to get together. Soon. Or she really will show up at the door.

Cas laughed. “Yes. She would. I would like that. Do you think she’ll be pleased with this development?” He gestured vaguely between the two of them.

“Dude. She’s been pushing me at you practically from the beginning. She knows I’ve been mooning after you forever. Yes. She’ll be thrilled. And those double dates can _really_ be double dates.”

Cas arched a brow at him, his expression going soft. “You thought of them that way too?”

“Too?” That? That was too much. Dean leaned down and kissed Cas again.


	10. Chapter 10

_One year later_

“Been way too long since we’ve eaten here,” Dean commented, holding open the door to Burger Heaven so that Cas and Charlie could enter.

“It has been,” Cas agreed. “I’ve been dreaming of their burgers.”

Charlie laughed. “Well, we had to come here. It’s a tradition, right? The place to be when celebrating anniversaries.”

They were shown to their favorite booth, sliding in… Charlie on one side, Dean and Cas on the other. Cas reached over to take Dean’s hand, resting both of them on Dean’s thigh. He stroked his thumb over the gold band encircling his ring finger.

Dean smiled at him, squeezing briefly.

After their beers showed up, Charlie lifted hers, waited for them to do the same. “To us. And to Wizard Technology, Inc.”

“Cheers.” Dean clinked his bottle against hers and Cas’.

A year ago he’d never have dreamed he’d be in this place. Wizard Technology had been Charlie’s idea. Apparently she’d been dreaming of it for years, having her own technology consulting firm. After both Dean and Cas quit Sandover, she pitched the idea to them. She was brilliant with the tech, but she knew there were other skills needed that she frankly lacked and had no interest in developing.

Marketing and administration, to be specific.

How fortunate, she’d enthused, that Dean was a kick-ass sales guy and Castiel had skills above and beyond human resources. Dean and Charlie coerced him into accepting the CEO role.

It had taken a surprisingly short time to build enough of a client base to pay the bills and even expand. They’d hired Mildred Baker to be their receptionist and administrative assistant, then brought on Charlie’s friend Kevin Tran as a second tech consultant. They were considering bringing in a third in the near future, if they could find someone with the right fit.

Dean thought that if they got to a point where they needed another sales guy, he’d give Billie a call.

In the meantime, though, he was happy. So happy. He’d moved into Cas’ house, gotten engaged, was planning a wedding.

Cas looked at the two of them. “To Wizard Technology. And my conversion.”

“Conversion?”

He smiled. “Yes. My conversion… to someone who no longer insists that workplace relationships should be against the rules.”

Dean laughed and kissed him.

“Good call, babe. Love you.”

“Love you back.”


End file.
